Page 20 of Love Hollow at Last
“Yes,” said Emi firmly.“Nobody needs to baby me.I’m pregnant, not in an iron lung.”
Aya shook her head.“I can’t believe it.You don’t look pregnant at all.”
“Well, I’m sure I look tired, which is pretty much the par for the course during the first trimester,” said Emi.“But after last night, I’m just glad not to be dying.”
“We’re all dying,” said Aya automatically.
Emi rolled her eyes.“Yes.Indeed.Thank you for the reminder.”
“Stay and rest,” said Aya, but as soon as she touched the door, Twyla started complaining about her back again.
“My back feels so very terrible!It will only feel better if my dear sister and her friend come to the dance rehearsal tonight!”
In a hushed voice, she added, “Emi, you don’t have to come.Better play that pregnancy card for the whole nine months.”
Emi smiled.“I’ll come, but I don’t think I can do any of the moves.In spite of your mom’s best efforts, I was never much of a dancer.”
“Same,” said Aya, but Twyla held up a finger.“You’re showing up to help us make the numbers, Aya-nene.”
Using Aya’s childhood nickname was manipulative, and it almost worked.
“Mom can lead and follow, and come to think of it, so can you,” said Aya.“So you never have any issues with numbers.”
“Yes, but we have too many leaders now.We need three followers, so Mom and I can’t fix it by ourselves, and it’s going to be so sad if one of our best dancers doesn’t participate,” said Twyla.“Promise you’ll come?”
Aya groaned.“Will you come with me and help me make welcome packets?”
“I would, but I have to get to work!”said Twyla, springing to her feet as she proved that her back problems were entirely imaginary.
Emi grinned.“Okay, crazy lady,” she said.“I’ll help you make the packets.Let’s go.”
18
Aya
Aya felt guilty that she hadn’t been doing anything for her mother, sister, or friend—but not guilty enough to go to the rehearsal.
“We have to get moving,” said her mother as soon as everyone had finished eating.“It’s okay if you don’t come, sweet Aya mine.I know you’ve been busy.”
Her mother used to say that kind of thing all the time, down to the silly nickname.After their dad died, Aya, Martha, and Twyla had been basically the most doted-on children in existence.Their mother and grandmothers felt like they needed love more than discipline.Fortunately, Auntie Joan often came by to take care of them after school, and since she had never really liked kids, she was much stricter.The combination of high expectations and boundless love helped them recover.
“Aya,” said Twyla, “you need to come with us.Or Emi is going to feel much worse.”
Emi got up, glaring at Twyla.“I feel just fine, thanks.”
“Okay, so you’re going to join in the dancing?”
Emi grabbed Aya’s hand.“Actually, I take it back.I feel terrible.I could faint at any moment.”
Aya wore a silky green dress that Twyla had given her.She recognized it from one of the recitals her mom’s students had done about twelve years ago.She was surprised at how well it fit but embarrassed by how short the skirt was and how deep it plunged down her back.
“Can’t I just wear street clothes?”she asked Twyla.
“Not if everyone else is wearing their costumes,” said Emi, grinning.
“Why should I wear this?They wore long skirts to these dances!It doesn’t make any sense.”
“But this is a modern take,” said Twyla.“Old-school dance with a little bit of fresh, youthful energy.”
